A Very Bad Day

Sometimes the toughest part of writing is being honest. I have not written in a while because I have been in the woods every spare minute of daylight this week, and I have not wanted to be honest. The story of why, is tough to tell and could be tough to read. Hunting is not always clean and easy, so if you are squeamish of such things, this is not the post for you to read. Skip it and read another.

Work continues to be slow and I had all of Tuesday to spend in the woods. I have come to believe that most early morning trips into the woods are wastes of time for a variety of reasons. First, entering the woods in the dark of morning is usually loud and difficult. It is also very cold and unpleasant, this makes the hunter get cold and by midmorning, most are ready to leave the woods to warm up. However, I have found that later in the morning is a prime time for deer moving and I have seen many this time of day. Entering the woods a little later means I can slowly move and watch for hours, covering ground and spend a good seven or eight hours without leaving the woods. But having said that, going in early every now and then is good because it is another piece of the puzzle and it will let you see the woods wake up, which is always neat.

Tuesday, I went in at about 10 am. I brought some climbing sticks with me to try out and replace my strap-on climbing steps with at my treestand. On the way in, I could hear something in the thicker woods near my stand, so I stopped, set down the climbing sticks, and dropped my pack. The sounds were just across a clearing and I waited for about a half hour on the near side, watching and listening. I knew I should have tried to move closer to the edge of the clearing, but I though the deer would pop out any minute, so I froze and waited. Sure enough, a doe came out and stepped to the edge of the clearing, but she saw me, and stopped. I had time to shoot, but she was facing me almost direct and about 25 yards away. Too risky of a shot for me to take, so I held off and she turned and bounded off. No problem, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was wound her.

I got to my stand and put up the new climbing sticks. They went together easily, were solid and very easy to climb. Satisfied with my stand, I went for a little walk around, then decided to go on stand at about 2 pm, and settle in.

Three big porcupines sat up in the trees nearby and time passed quickly as I alternated between watching them feed and looking for deer. Around 5 pm I heard steps and watched. Four deer came in from my right and moved across to my left, getting closer. There were three does of average size (100 lb. or so) and one in the lead that was head and shoulders above the others, probably 150 lbs. or so. That was the one I wanted. I watched them come in, unaware of my presence.

I was standing, and I had about a 22 yd. shot, down and to my left through an open lane. The big doe stepped into the space and I had a perfect broadside shot. I drew, aimed behind the shoulder and shot. What happened next is blurry and happened so fast, it is difficult to describe. The deer moved before my arrow even reached its mark. I thought I might have missed, everything moved so fast, I just couldn’t tell. The big deer bolted in the direction it was headed and the other three broke toward the direction they had come from.

At first I just waited, watching and mentally marking the spot where the deer was standing, and marking the spot where it ran off to. I untied my harness and climbed down. First, I wanted to find my arrow, if it was still there. I looked for 45 minutes and couldn’t find anything. No arrow, no blood, nothing. I went to the last place I saw the deer, then tracked it for about a hundred more yards, still not sure if I hit it, then I saw some blood and knew I had. By now it was nearly dark and I switched on my headlamp to start trailing.

The trail was pretty light and I had to move slowly, looking for drops, smears, anything I could find. I carefully marked sign with a forked stick and another stick resting in it, showing direction of travel and keeping me from tracking in a circle over the same sign. I tracked in the dark, the blood trail was light to begin with and it got lighter and lighter, until I couldn’t find anything to follow.

By now it was almost 9 pm and I was a good distance from the original shooting location. I tried to find more trail, but I was in an area where lots of deer were bedding or passing through and there were multiple trails in many directions. Then, I bumped the buck. He sounded big, but everything sounds bigger in the dark. I could hear him move away from me, maybe 10 yards, then stop. I knew it was a buck because it didn’t just take off; it stood its ground and began to snort at me. It was at this point that I decided to get out of the woods for the night.

If you feel bad about reading this, about what happened, trust me, I feel ten times worse. Wounding an animal is every hunter’s nightmare and I have not been able to get over this. I practice and practice and have passed up at least six other chances to shoot so far this year, specifically to avoid this situation. I have spent every spare hour of daylight in the woods looking for this deer and I will spend at least 10-11 hours out there tomorrow. It is all I can do. I want to find that deer more than anything right now and I will do everything I can to. This story isn’t over, yet.